


Gallic Victory at Sigma Ki

by missmeparadox



Category: Smosh
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fraternity, Gen, Partying, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 22:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15010790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmeparadox/pseuds/missmeparadox
Summary: Starring:Wes, who needs an out. Lasercorn, who wants revenge. Shayne, who’s determined to throw the best rager in Greek row history. Sohinki, who’s determined to expose German exchange student Damien Haas for the dick he must be.And Damien, who isn’t German.Feat. Noah, who’s just happy to be here.





	Gallic Victory at Sigma Ki

**Author's Note:**

> a blurb for the group chat to get this little idea about fraternities and revenge out of my head. may actually turn into a long-form college-thingy since everyone who commented is an enabler.

To Lasercorn Moss’ credit, the plan had almost worked.   
  
Well, if “almost” were defined as loosely as possible. The party was in full swing and they had lost Joven hours ago. Mari was doing a keg stand on the back porch of the Sigma Ki bungalow, and Wes was ready to panic.  
  
“dont pussy out yet dweebus” the latest text from their informant read, “target incoming. thundercats GO”  
  
Their cavalry arrives with fanfare in the form of “March of the Gladiators” absolutely pulsing from the speaker strapped across Sohin’s chest. The gladiator costumes Lasercorn had threatened persuaded Keith Leak into lending him gleamed under the flashing disco lights. He had a real, honest to god sword in his hands.   
  
“Greetings, peons!” Lasercorn bellowed.  
  
“Sup,” Shayne answered. He didn’t seem phased that he was being challenged in his living room by a mad man. Wes felt a crawling sense of dread wash over him.   
  
Boze seemed to have come to the same conclusion from her perch on the stairs. Another text came quickly;  
  
“we r fucked BOI”  
  
Damien shifted behind Shayne, almost to remind the room that he still stood there. Lasercorn swayed on his feet, now propped up by the blade in his hand as if it were a kickstand. The air in the room went as still as it possibly could as the party raged on, revelers in themed clothing parading through the still scene.   
  
“What is this, exactly?” Shayne finally asked.  
  
“We’re Romans,” Sohinki scoffed, as if the statement made logical sense. Shayne nodded anyways, thoughtfully.   
  
“You realize that this means war, right?” He continued.  
  
“Consider this a formal declaration,” Lasercorn smiled in a way only bloodlust could prompt him to.   
  
“Who’s gonna draw first blood?”  Noah shouted over the music, nursing a cup of green liquid that had undoubtedly come from Olivia. He wasn’t the only one invested in the exchange; a crowd was beginning to form, if only to exchange whispers of “holy shit, is that a sword?”   
  
Before more questions could be raised or any insults thrown, the telltale sound of dry heaving echoed from the hallway, heralding Joven’s appearance. He stumbled into the circle, heavy on his feet and thoroughly mussed, hanging onto Damien’s shoulder for comfort.   
  
“Did we win?” He asked earnestly.   
  
“Not yet!” Lasercorn replied.   
  
“Neat,” Joven nodded once, and then puked onto Damien’s shoes without warning.   
  
“Dude,” Damien said, weakly.  
  
The group froze.   
  
“Did you just fucking speak English?” Boze called from the staircase. She seemed to have given up on her informant role in favor of watching with a can of PBR and half of a sandwich.   
  
Shayne barely suppressed a laugh that devolved into a full-out fit, while the Romans watched with dawning realization and fury.  
  
“You let us believe you only spoke German,” Sohinki spoke slowly, “for two months? I almost lost my job because of you!”  
  
“And my date!” Joven slurred.  
  
“Yeah, what the fuck dude?” Noah asked nonchalantly.   
  
Damien nervously cast a look at Shayne, who bumped his shoulder with his own and offered him a smile that seemed to reassure the other. “It was funny?” He managed to reply.  
  
A pause. Outside, someone (probably Courtney) screamed “WET T SHIRT CONTEST”, which for once, failed to break the tension.   
  
“Son of a bitch!” Sohinki kept at Damien only to be intercepted by Shayne’s outspread arms, and continued to throw punches that threatened to knock the teeth out of anyone in the immediate vicinity.   
  
“Romans rule!” Lasercorn shouted in triumph, before lowering his visor, raising the sword, and charging. 


End file.
